


Hold on to let go

by alexanger



Series: Bold and young [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Bloodplay, Consensual, Degradation, Humiliation, M/M, Paddling, Painplay, Restraints, Sounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 03:19:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7918453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanger/pseuds/alexanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamilton can't say no to this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold on to let go

**Hamilton:**   
we need to talk.

**Me:**   
I understand that your pathological need to always be speaking is definitely something that exists, but what does that have to do with me?

**Hamilton:**   
i’ll be there in 20.

**Me:**   
Uh? Who said you could come over?

**Hamilton:**   
me. we’re talking.

 

Hamilton walks in to see Jefferson shirtless and smirking.

“You can put your shirt back on,” he says. “I’m not fucking you today.”

“Then why come over? Bye, Hamilton.” Jefferson flops back against the couch and turns on the TV. Hamilton crosses, leaning heavily on his cane, and grabs the remote to turn the TV off.

“This is important. Listen to me.”

“What?” Jefferson snaps. 

“I’m seeing someone.”

“Okay?”

“So we need to stop doing this,” Hamilton says.

“What, didn’t he know I’m fucking you senseless three times a week?” Jefferson says, scowling.

“No,” Hamilton says. “She didn’t.”

Jefferson laughs in his face. “You’re dating a girl? That’ll last about a month, tops.”

“Just because  _ you _ only like one gender - fuck, I’m not going to take the bait. Anyway, I’m - I guess I’m breaking up with you.”

“We never had anything,” Jefferson lies. “Nothing to break up. Enjoy your girlfriend.”

Hamilton turns thorny then, all hard edges and fire. “I will,” he snaps. “Enjoy your hand.”

And then he’s gone, and the apartment suddenly seems far too quiet.

 

* * *

 

But he calls two weeks later, at 3 AM, desperate and pleading.  _ She doesn’t do it for me like you do, _ he whispers, hard to hear over the heavy breathing that must be hers.  _ I miss the way you hurt me. _

_ Sucks to suck, Hamilton. Goodnight. _

Jefferson contemplates deleting Hamilton’s number. He isn’t jealous, and he  _ doesn’t _ miss Hamilton. He just - needs a good fuck.

When he touches himself he thinks about the way Hamilton cries.

 

* * *

 

It takes a month, almost to the day, and then Hamilton is back at his apartment.

“Why are you here?” Jefferson asks.

“Fuck me,” Hamilton says. “However you want. Make it hurt.”

“What about your girlfriend?”

“She’s fine -”

“Does she know?”

“Yeah,” Hamilton says, avoiding Jefferson’s eyes. “Are you fucking me or not?”

Jefferson draws him in, wraps a hand around his throat, and kisses him tenderly. He waits until Hamilton is melting against him and then tightens his hand like a collar, like a noose, and bites down on his lip.

“Don’t you ever ask me for anything,” Jefferson says, and he shoves Hamilton hard enough that he lands, hard, on his knees. “You prove to me that you deserve it.”

Hamilton shuffles forward on his knees and unbuckles Jefferson’s belt, unzips his fly, fumbles his cock out of his pants and sucks the head into his mouth. It’s soft still, barely showing interest, but he tongues the slit and licks sloppily along the underside of the shaft, and it slowly hardens in his mouth. He can feel the heat as the blood rushes in; he moans, forcing the whole thing down his throat and swallowing around it.

“Shit, almost thought you’d forget how to do this,” Jefferson says, fisting a hand in Hamilton’s hair. “But you were born a cocksucker, weren’t you? You never forget the one thing you’re good at, huh? I love filling that disgusting mouth up, making you take it all. Prove you’re worth something, Hamilton. Prove that you deserve my cock. Work for it and I’ll fuck you.”

Hamilton groans and bobs his head, fucking his throat on Jefferson’s cock. He can feel Jefferson tensing, and then he’s being shoved away, and he tumbles sideways.

“Bedroom,” Jefferson says. Hamilton hesitates for a fraction of a second, and Jefferson grabs his jaw. “Can I hit your face today?”

He only hesitates for a moment before he breathes, “yes.”

Jefferson winds up and slaps him hard, and then he’s reeling, harder than he’s been in a month. “I missed you,” he says.

“Shut up,” Jefferson tells him, but there’s warmth there.

Hamilton does what he thrives on - he obeys. He struggles to his feet and all but runs to Jefferson’s bedroom, strips his clothes off as fast as humanly possible, and throws himself on the bed.

Jefferson follows slowly, shedding clothing as he goes. Hamilton feels a sharp pain in his jaw as he takes in the movement of muscle under the skin, the curls of hair on Jefferson’s chest and stomach, the heavy weight of his hard cock swinging. He needs to be doing something with his mouth - if it isn’t talking, it’s biting or sucking or licking.

“So I knew you were a desperate slut, but I didn’t know you were  _ this _ desperate,” Jefferson says idly, taking his time to paw through his collection of restraints and paddles. “You aren’t getting enough from your girlfriend, huh? You had to come beg me for a little bit of pity?”

Hamilton grits his teeth. “You do it right,” he says.

Jefferson turns, brandishing a set of leather cuffs and an ominously spiked paddle. “Say that again.”

“I don’t want to play games, Jefferson. You fuck me right. You know how to hurt me. So get over here and hurt me,” Hamilton snaps.

Jefferson closes the distance to the bed in two monstrous strides, drops the toys on the bed, and lands a nasty backhand on Hamilton’s cheek. Blood rises in it immediately; Jefferson gives him another for good measure, then grabs his jaw, digging his fingers in, and says, “if I’m fucking you, you’re going to respect me. Watch your trash mouth.”

“Yes sir,” Hamilton manages, glowing with excitement.

“Next time you sass me, I’m going to hurt you for it. Very,  _ very  _ badly. So unless you want some marks to show off to your girlfriend -”

“Mark me up,” Hamilton cuts him off. “Make it hurt, make it bruise, make it bleed.”

Jefferson leans in and grazes his lips against Hamilton’s. “What do you think the spiked paddle is for?” he breathes, and then he bites down hard on Hamilton’s lower lip. Hamilton jerks and cries out, fighting - although he doesn’t know if he’s fighting to get closer or pull away. There’s nothing in his mind but the pain, blocking everything out, pushing the dark thoughts to the furthest corners of his brain.

He needs more.

Hamilton grabs Jefferson’s arms, pulls him closer, and Jefferson reacts exactly the way he  _ knew _ he would - he snarls and slams Hamilton down, pinning him, one hand on his throat and one yanking his hair, hard. “Did I give you permission to touch me?” he growls.

“No,” Hamilton says, delighted.

“Do you think I want your worthless hands on me? Do you think I want your nasty hands contaminating me? You’re garbage, and you don’t deserve any of this. But I  _ give _ it to you, because I pity you.”

He straightens up and Hamilton lays prone exactly where Jefferson left him. “Look at you,” Jefferson says, soft, dangerous. There’s real anger in him today; it’s welling up and spilling over and Hamilton savours all of it, savours every word that lands whip-like on him. “Pathetic. I bite you once and already the fight’s gone out of you. If I wanted a toy that didn’t fight back, I’d buy one. You know, when we started this, the only thing that was attractive about you was the fight. Now you’re not even fighting - what good are you? You scrawny little piece of shit. You’re tiny and bony, no fucking muscle on you - nothing. Tell me one good thing about you.”

“I suck cock like a champion,” Hamilton offers, swelling with shame. It burns inside him, a flame in his chest, agonizing and perfect.

“Yeah, it figures that’d be the thing you  _ think _ redeems you. You know what? You suck cock because you’re a fuck toy. You’re a hole that needs to be filled, and nothing else.” Jefferson grins. “And I’m going to fill you. And you’ll just beg and beg for more, won’t you? No matter what I do to you, it’ll never be enough. You’re never satisfied because you’re a  _ hole. _ And it doesn’t matter how much anyone tries to fill you - you’ll always just be a hole.”

And that - that hits hard, and Hamilton knows it’s true.

He does the only thing he can think to do. He cries. He cries softly while Jefferson cuffs him and straps him to the bedframe; he cries while Jefferson shoots lube into his cock and teases the slit with the tip of a sound; he cries when Jefferson puts the sound back in the case, just for a moment, to ask, “was that too far? Are you okay?”

“Not too far,” Hamilton says, choking the words through his tears. “Keep going. Please, please keep going, it feels so good. I needed this. I need it.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” Jefferson hesitates still, so Hamilton struggles a little and says, “you haven’t fucked me in a month. You  _ owe  _ me. I need it to hurt - you’re doing it so good, don’t stop now.”

So Jefferson spits at him. Saliva strikes his belly just as the tip of the sound slips into his cock, and the gravelly voice growls, “it hasn’t even  _ started  _ to hurt yet, hole.”

He hasn’t had his cock stuffed in so long. It aches at first, the feeling of something sliding into him is almost too much. It slips in by itself, the weight carrying it deep inside him, with just the slightest bit of guidance from Jefferson’s fingers; when it reaches as deep as it will go, Hamilton sighs with the ache and rolls his hips. Jefferson fucks him with the sound, fucks him in earnest, just hard enough that it hurts a little. The moment he’s used to the feeling again, the sound is gone, and Jefferson is putting a bigger one - maybe three sizes up - against the tip of his cock.

“You know what I love?” Jefferson says. “I love watching your cock stretch around these. I love seeing you swallow them. See, this is what I mean when I say you’re a hole - look how easy it goes in. Look at it, slut.” Jefferson rubs his thumb against the underside of Hamilton’s cock, rubbing just where the tip of the sound is, and Hamilton chokes out a groan. This one slides into him too, not as easy but easy enough; it’s too gentle, too kind.

Jefferson doesn’t make him wait long. He pulls that sound out too, and then shows Hamilton the big one - the scary one - the one he outright said no to a month ago, the one that looks like it’ll rip him in half.

He looks at it and breathes, “please put that inside me.”

It slides in easier than he thought, but there’s an undeniable stretch. He breathes through it, legs taut as it slides all the way in, and then it’s nestled inside him, hard and heavy, and Jefferson says, “I’m going to hit you.”

“Oh,” says Hamilton, still lost in the sensation of his cock full and stretched around the sound.

Jefferson rubs the paddle over his thigh. Hamilton can feel the spikes - they’re tiny, sticking maybe a millimeter up from the leather, but they’re  _ sharp. _ He shivers and his thighs tense against the impending blow. “Relax,” Jefferson says, stroking him gently with the paddle. “Just relax.”

“I can’t.”

“It’ll hurt more if you do.”

He forces himself to release the tension in his muscles. “Good hole,” Jefferson praises, and then he winds up and smacks down hard, and Hamilton  _ howls. _

The spikes pierce the skin. Hamilton feels the sick tug as Jefferson pulls out, and he glances down and sees spots of red welling, and he pants hard, pulling against his restraints. Jefferson jacks his cock, and he remembers the sound - how could he have forgotten when he’s so full - and the pain and pleasure of the stretch, the pain and pleasure of bleeding, are suddenly too much, and he’s sobbing.

“Still with me?” Jefferson asks.

“Yeah.”

“I need you to tell me you’re okay to keep going before I do that again.”

“Do it,” Hamilton says. “Please, do it. Do it again, fuck, please -”

Jefferson hits him again and the spikes bite in, tiny predators fixed in his skin, and Hamilton sobs against the pain and begs, “another, please, sir, fuck -”

He loses count of how many times the spikes bite in. All he knows is that at some point a tiny rivulet of blood spills over the side of his leg and soaks into the bed, and Jefferson tosses the paddle aside, slaps the thigh with his open hand, and snarls, “look what you did, worthless hole. Can’t we get through this without you ruining it?”

“No, sir,” Hamilton breathes, taken aback by the sincerity in the words. He isn’t prepared for how raw that is; it’s coming from somewhere he’s never seen before.

Jefferson seems taken aback by his own savagery. He jerks Hamilton off, drawing out the sound just as his orgasm hits, and it’s so intense that for a long, blessed moment, there’s nothing but the pulse in his cock and the pounding of his heart. 

He keeps his eyes closed. Jefferson leaves for a moment, and when he returns there’s dampness on his leg, the soft rasp of a washcloth. The cuffs release. He keeps his eyes closed, drifting.

“You aren’t worthless, you know,” Jefferson tells him, and he finally opens his eyes.

“No. I am,” Hamilton says. “But thank you anyway.”

 

* * *

 

There’s a bruise on the apple of his cheek where Jefferson hit him. Eliza notices it that evening while they sit down to dinner.

“Are you okay?” she asks, worry plain on her face.

“What?” Hamilton touches his cheek, feels the bruise, and fakes a smile. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. You know how clumsy I am - dropped my cane at work today and banged my face off the counter trying to pick it up. It’ll be fine.”

“You need to be more careful,” Eliza gently reprimands him.

_ You’re right, _ Hamilton thinks. 

He shoves his guilt aside.

**Author's Note:**

> mmmmm sorry
> 
> comments and kudos calm the raging guilt inside me. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


End file.
